


Shed Sex

by kateyboosh



Category: The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: A crack beginning, A crack end, Anal Sex, Banter, Blindfolds, Crack, Creative uses of garden hose, Edging, Julian listens eventually, M/M, Noel's cock is chatty, Rimming, Some well romantic stuff in the middle, hand holding, of a type, shed sex, this is normal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28016337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateyboosh/pseuds/kateyboosh
Summary: I couldn't write those reminisces on shed sex in That Weird Sucking Stuff and then skip writing the actual factual cracktual Shed Sex, right?Right?
Relationships: Julian Barratt/Noel Fielding
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10
Collections: Trash Triplets Crackmas 2020: It's All About Range





	Shed Sex

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Terrantalen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrantalen/gifts).



> For Terrantalen. I tried to fit as many favorites in as I could, cause you da best, man.

It starts as a regular enough morning.

Noel wakes up and stretches, sun streaming in his bedroom window. He dismisses the swans and the little forest animals that pop in to comb his hair and carry him about. And nothing against harps, but he prefers to have that morning’s dance party to Mick Jagger.

Noel grabs his phone, pulls a face, posts a cheeky selfie, then puts on some pants. Several hours later, after a bubble bath and a wander round the kitchen, eating handfuls of Coco Pops straight out of the box, he pulls on another pair of pants, then begrudgingly adds jeans, a t-shirt and boots, and heads over to Julian’s.

As Noel lopes down the way, he hears sounds coming from the direction of Julian’s back garden. Sounds that sound suspiciously like they’re coming from near Julian’s shed. Sounds of sweat and exertion and strong, Northern physical undertaking. _Intriguing_ sounds.

When Noel peeps through a knot in the fence, Julian is in fact in the back garden with the doors to his shed open. He has a shovel and a rake in his garden-gloved hands, cardigan and plaid nightmare shirt on his top half, frayed jeans that he’d stepped on over his bottom half, with a bandana hanging out the back pocket.

Noel pulls a face. Not the physical exertion he was hoping for, then. And who wears three layers to pull weeds?

As if he’d heard Noel’s very loud thoughts, Julian peels off his cardigan and then his plaid shirt. He swipes his arm over his forehead, t-shirt tucked up tight against his broad shoulders. He takes off a glove, peeling the velcro closure back with his teeth, and runs his huge hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes.

Noel’s cock leaps with joy in his pants.

He frowns down at it and nearly trips over a stack of terra cotta pots as he reaches for the garden gate.

 _At least let me say hello first_ , he scowls.

 _This isn’t a nice enough hello?_ his cock scowls back.

Huh. He knew his cock was capable of a lot of things, but scowling’s a new one for the cock CV.

“Would you stop talking with your cock out there, Fielding, and hand me those clippers when you get inside?” Julian calls over the fence. “Hand me those seeds over there too.”

“At least let me say hello first,” Noel calls back. He nearly trips over the clippers as he’s going for the seeds, and wishes he would have. Radishes, beets, and _parsnips_?

“No courgettes? No broad beans? Not even a carrot?” he asks, brandishing the packets.

“When you spend all morning digging out the sod, you can plant what you want,” Julian responds. He’s got a bit of a sweat on, his shirt clinging around his neck.

 _He looks well rugged_ , Noel’s cock whispers.

 _Shhh_ , Noel whispers back. He’d known all along that his cock could do that, the whispering thing. He knows that Julian looks well rugged, too. Obviously. In fact, he’s pretty sure he was the first one to notice that, and is about to tell his cock so when he sees that well rugged Julian is giving him a look, waiting for his response.

Whatever, he can inform his cock later.

Noel regroups.

“The _sod_?” He looks around as if he’s waiting to see someone in a calico dress and buttoned boots trundle up driving a horse and buggy. “Did we fall back into the 1800s or something? Should I have brought my sun bonnet? Are we going to be writing by candlelight tonight?”

Julian chuckles. “No. Do you have a sun bonnet, though? How does that work with your hairstyle? Isn’t that bonnet enough?”

Noel ducks and sticks his tongue out before Julian’s paw can ruffle through his fringe. “Get lost. How long before you’re done? It’s hot out here and I’m bored.”

Julian gets as far as, “You could help-”

“Plant your parsnips? No, thank you. I’ll watch you do it, though.”

Noel scampers into the garden shed. Julian’s got folding chairs in one of the corners. Failing that, he’s got what looks like a canoe without a paddle, several bags of potting soil, some planters and buckets, and an entire section of various sizes of wooden garden stakes.

“Are you hunting Count Dracula before or after you plant your crop, farmer boy?” he calls.

“I’ve already found him,” Julian calls back. “He’s rooting around in silver boots in my shed, skiving off parsnip planting duty. Bring me the little trowel in there,” he adds. “Back shelf, by the boxes. If you see a lamppost and a faun, you’ve gone too far.”

Noel pushes past a wheelbarrow and a stack of boxes and nearly trips over a short coil of garden hose. He picks it up and tosses it to the front of the shed. There are rakes, hoes, clippers, spades, shovels, scissors and some implements he doesn’t even know the name of on the mystical back shelf, but no trowel.

Noel’s beginning to think that he’ll find the lamppost and the faun before he finds the trowel when Julian’s huge hand comes out of nowhere and picks it up from where it’s resting next to a box of spark plugs. He squeaks, backs into the wall of cardboard behind him, and goes through a spiderweb before Julian’s other hand shoots out to steady him.

“Julian,” he wails, batting the sticky spiderweb away from his face. “Is it in my hair?”

Julian’s hand runs over his barnet, then his face before he answers. “Nope, not in your hair. Not on your face, either.”

He gets his eyes open in time to watch Julian wipe his webby hand down the leg of his jeans.

Noel smiles. He reaches for the bandana hanging out of Julian’s back pocket, snaps it open, and then pats at his face, just to be sure.

When it comes back clean, he folds the bandana neatly, ignores Julian’s wounded rescuer expression, and knots it around his head, action hero style. He’s about to swing around and go at the spider that’s surely lurking in the shadows, waiting, when Julian reaches forward, pulls the bandana down around his eyes, and kisses him.

The kiss deepens until it drifts out of the lane that it’s in, off to the side of the road, into the cover of the bushes.

Noel’s eyes are gleaming under the bandana when they break. He slides the fabric down over one eye and peeks out.

“Aren’t you meant to be out sowing seeds?”

Julian shrugs. He raises a brow, then lifts the blindfold back over Noel’s eye.

“Starting to get warm out there. Besides, _technically..._ if we-”

“Yeah?” Noel grins.

“Really, I’d be sowing a _type_ of seed....”

Noel tongues at the point of his canine and reaches for Julian’s trousers, and _Christ_ , he’s stiff-

“Noel, that’s some canvas over the corner of the workbench. I’m over here?”

Noel hesitates and pats at the fabric. “I know, I was just-”

_Tidying up before? Checking you were paying attention?_

“Assaulting the fixtures? Bit of a warmup?”

Noel scowls. His “no” comes out as a breathy “yeah” as Julian’s large, warm hand cups him through his jeans. His voice is cheerful as he traces Noel with a finger. “Let’s get these off.”

Noel leans into him and nods. He tilts his hips forward and waits.

“Go on, then,” Julian says. He pats at Noel’s hip and clambers up to sit on the workbench.

 _“Go on, then?”_ Noel’s cock pouts. _And he’s got problems with our version of foreplay?_

 _Shhh_ , Noel tells his cock. He does the best that he can, stripping himself with his eyes covered. His jeans and pants make it most of the way down with the seams on one leg twisted and touching his kneecap, but he gets tangled in his shirt, trying to get it over his head without undoing the blindfold.

“This is weird, Ju’n,” he mumbles around a surprise mouthful of fabric and hair.

“Just close your eyes under there and pretend you’re getting undressed in the dark.” Julian clears his throat. “It should come quite naturally to you.”

“Oh,” Noel says. “Right.” He squeezes his eyes shut. His shirt hits the shed floor with a thump and he’s shaking his hair around his shoulders a few seconds later. His jeans come off over his boots in a tick, and he’s checking to make sure his pants have gone with them when he hears Julian slide off the workbench.

“Nearly there,” Julian says. Noel hears him bending, then standing, then he taps at Noel’s hip again.

“Hands?”

Noel shows his palms. He flexes his fingers. “Yeah? Can’t see ‘em, still got ‘em. Is the next question cock? Got that too.” He wiggles his hips forward and Julian chuckles. His hand wraps around Noel’s wrist and his lips brush Noel’s ear.

Noel freezes.

“Hands,” Julian whispers, his voice low and thick. “Let me have them.”

 _Well rugged_ , his cock reminds him.

Noel holds his hands out in Julian’s direction. First, there’s the warm brush of Julian’s callused fingertips over the center of his palms. Then, Noel feels what can only be the old length of garden hose he tossed out of his way wrapping snug around his wrists.

“You’re kinky,” he giggles, imagining the lift of Julian’s shoulder and the grin that’s ducking under his ‘tache to hide.

There’s a pause as Julian checks the bow he’s tied, and then a “You're the kinky one. I’m shrugging, in case you haven’t gathered.” This time, he pats Noel on the arse when he’s finished, and Noel’s cock twitches. 

_Is he forgetting about us?_

Julian’s hand skates over Noel’s chest, then brushes his hair back over his shoulder, then he’s gone.

 _Shhh_ , Noel scolds. _The two of you are making it very difficult to think_.

Noel squirms.

He waits. He holds his breath, then lets it all out in a huff.

“Ju?”

“Yes?”

“You gonna touch me, or should I find that spider from earlier and ask it to take pity on me?”

There’s a grin in Julian’s voice when he speaks. “I’ll get round to it. Just thinking. Watching.”

Noel wiggles. His pants are definitely still hooked around his ankles. He shifts. He squirms. He doesn’t mind being watched, but ideally, he’s being watched and touched at the same time. Standing nearly naked in Julian’s shed, blindfolded and tied up while Julian muses in some indeterminate corner about alternating rows of radishes and parsnips isn’t his idea of a thrilling afternoon.

Well. Parts of that are. Mostly, the first part.

Anyway, maybe he’s meant to touch Julian first? If he can fucking find him.

He moves backwards a step, and then another, and Julian doesn’t tell him to stop, so he keeps going until he feels something solid behind him.

Noel purses his lips and as seductively, as irresistibly as he’s ever done it, he lets his weight fall onto the Julian-shape behind him.

Bit weird, though, how being blindfolded moves people’s voices across the room when they speak.

"Nice try, Fielding, but I'm over here.”

As if Noel doesn’t know.

"I know," he squeaks. "Just thought you'd like a bit of a show."

"You getting off with a dusty, mouse-chewed scarecrow counts as ‘a bit of a show?’"

Noel scoffs. Hard to scoff with your main scoffing features covered with paisley print cloth, but at least his mouth’s uncovered.

"You're the freak that's tied me up with garden hose for shed sex. Are you going to smack my arse with a shovel and fuck me over the workbench next?"

Noel hears Julian musing loud and clear, even if he can’t see him through the blindfold. He can tell both of them are grinning now, and he knows that Julian certainly isn’t thinking about the parsnips.

“Not a bad idea,” Julian responds. “Perhaps not in that order, though.”

Noel hears him crossing the floor, and he shivers. When Julian’s hand comes out to touch his hip, he lets himself fall forward this time, into the well-rugged Julian-shape in front of him. Julian’s arms drape around his waist and he mumbles into Noel’s hair.

“Left the shovel outside, but the workbench is just over there.”

Noel’s weightless, then, as Julian scoops him up. His lips brush Noel’s throat as he lifts him, the ends of the garden hose thumping against Julian’s chest a second before his hands rest on his sternum.

He’s waiting for Julian to set him down on the bench, but his boots click against the floor as Julian arranges him, bare arse out, forearms against the hard wood top. He hears fabric rustling and then Julian’s warm, folded t-shirt is sliding under his elbows to pad them.

He smiles.

Julian's hands are on Noel’s waist, down the center of his back, tracing the dips and curve of his spine, the outline of his shoulder blades. Julian brushes his hair away from the nape of his neck and it tickles at his shoulders.

Noel’s cock clears its throat, loudly, and nudges him. 

_This is nice, but-_

“Ju? This is nice, but-”

Noel squirms. He wiggles. His cock is practically yelling for attention now, so loud he’s surprised Julian can’t hear it, and Christ, he didn’t know it knew so many colorful turns of phrase and positions, some of which he’s not sure anyone is actually physically capable of. 

Although, he might suggest he and Julian try a few of them out. Maybe later, though.

“Ju, could you-? Just... _anything_ -?”

Julian hums. His fingers slide down from Noel’s neck, down the length of his back, his hand coming to rest cupping the cheek of his arse. He squeezes lightly, then shrugs.

“I’m shrugging again, so you know.” He pauses. “I suppose I could.”

Noel hears Julian kneel and he can’t help his grin. He braces himself on the workbench even before Julian tells him to spread.

“Noel?”

“Mmmm?”

“That spider’s back,” Julian mentions casually before nipping at the curve of his arse, his tongue coming out to slide toward his crack.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Noel breathes.

“Should I,” Julian says, parting his cheeks, “stop and take care of it? Take it outside?” His breath is hot against Noel’s sensitive skin.

“ _No_ ,” Noel squeaks against his better judgement as Julian’s tongue slithers against his hole. “It’s _fine_ ,” he says, his voice splitting. His fingers flex against each other as Julian spreads him wider. “Let… let it watch… pervert.”

There has to be some karmic payback or irony or some universal device here, Noel tied up and blindfolded, the spider scurrying over eight-legged to watch Julian lick him out, in octo-vision, when he can’t see any of it. But if there is some _thing_ to describe the situation, Noel can’t think what to call it. All he can think is, _Fuck, this feels good,_ and _please,_ and _more_.

Julian’s stubble scrapes against his skin as he opens him, and both of his hands stay planted firmly on either side of Noel’s arse like they’re rooted there. His cock is screaming bloody murder to anyone who’ll listen, which is just him at this point, clearly. His breath jets down onto his forearms and his wrists are slightly sweaty from the rubber, and _fucking hell_ , he just wants to touch himself-

“Ju?” he pants, and Julian hums against him, and pushes the tip of his tongue in, and Noel’s knees go funny. Julian holds him up, of course, arms like fucking tree limbs, and Noel rocks back against the penetration. “Ju, are you gonna fuck me, or should I- _fuck._ _Should_ we get the fucking spider involved?”

Julian pushes his tongue deeper, slides it in and out, rubs little circles into Noel’s skin. He pulls back and laps at Noel one last time, wetly.

“Not a bad idea,” Julian muses. “The arachnid threesome.” He stands and squeezes at Noel's arms. "Subtract two of these, add eight wispy ones back." His hands slide to Noel’s stomach, his chest pressing firm to Noel’s back, and Christ, he’s still got his jeans on. Noel moans in frustration. 

“Going to need to find something to use as lube.” Julian’s fingertips splay out over his ribs, cup his tits, circle his nipples. He pinches them in tandem, rolls them between his thumb and forefinger, and Noel’s hips jerk up.

He tucks his chin over Noel’s shoulder, watches his own hands work, watches each panted breath leave Noel’s mouth. “Something liquid.” A hand leaves Noel’s nipple as Julian reaches forward and rummages over the top of the bench. “Motor oil... plant food....”

“Not funny,” Noel breathes, leaning back into him, grinding on Julian’s cock through his jeans. He tilts his head toward Julian and frowns at him best he can through his blindfold.

There’s the hint of a grin in Julian’s voice when he speaks. “Certainly not. This is serious business.” He leans forward and pecks the scowl off Noel’s lips. His hand strays back down Noel’s tit, down his ribs, dancing along his happy trail.

“Could always get the garden hose, spray us both down,” he says when they break apart. Noel can feel him shaking his head. “Too far away, outside. Roof's leaking over in the corner, though,” he says, his foot coming out to nudge at what must be a bucket. Noel hears a slosh of water and then he’s scowling again, and trying to pull his wrists away from each other.

 _I’m a dick, and I know dicks, and he’s being a massive dick_ , Noel’s cock strops.

“You’re a dick,” Noel says, working his hands loose. Julian’s hands are quicker than his, though.

One pulls the blindfold down around his neck at the same time the other envelops his cock and tugs, and when he opens his eyes against the sensation, Julian’s curling around to kiss the flat of his nose and pick up a tube of the most expensive lube on the market out of the dusty bottles and jars on the bench in front of them.

Noel huffs and tries to keep his hips still and his voice steady. “You _are_ a dick. Keep that in your shed for a garden wank, do you, after you’re all jazzed up by mouldy old veg and hedge clippers?”

“You’ve got me,” Julian tells him. “I see a bit of stray aubergine and I can’t help myself.” He leans forward again, licks up the side of Noel’s neck, speeds his wrist. Noel feels him pull back without stopping the movement of his hand, and then he hears the zip of Julian’s jeans go. The thump of the fabric sliding down to rest at the top of Julian’s battered boots is nearly as good as the feeling of Julian’s bare cock against his hip.

It’s quite difficult to stay cross when Julian’s pulling him off like an expert, twisting his wrist exactly how he knows Noel likes it, thumbing over his slit, because he is an expert, and he does know exactly how Noel likes it, and he’s not cross any longer, not when Julian pops the cap and slicks his cock and Noel’s.

Noel closes his eyes and huffs out a hot breath as Julian starts to guide himself inside, the movement of his wrist slowing to nearly nothing, until he’s just holding Noel, anchoring them both there. Little sparks of pleasure dart all over his skin as Julian eases in and drapes himself over Noel. His free hand comes up and covers Noel’s bound ones, his forearm resting alongside Noel’s on his crumpled t-shirt on top of the bench.

He builds a rhythm quickly, doesn’t make Noel wait, doesn’t tease and draw it out like he usually would, his hand on Noel’s cock matching his thrusts, and Noel melts into it. Still, he feels like it’s cheating if he watches; Julian didn’t re-blindfold him.

He can’t help it, though. He opens one eye and peers down at his cock, pumping through the circle of Julian’s massive fist.

 _Now this,_ this _is nice_ , his cock sighs, and Noel can do nothing but agree. He leans into it, closes his eyes, and tries his best to meet Julian from both sides.

He gets close faster than usual, every sensation building and multiplying on itself with his eyes shut. The workbench squeaks, and he whines at the feeling of Julian’s body over his, the press of his sun-warm, freckled chest to Noel’s back. His hands holding him just right, surrounding him, push him closer.

“Ju,” he gasps, “I’m gonna-”

Julian groans in his ear, noses into his hair, stills the motion of his hips and his hand. “Wait, stay still. Let me-”

After a few moments, Julian opens one eye and peers at the back of Noel’s head. He grins when he realizes the bandana’s been around Noel’s neck the entire time. He grins wider when he opens his other eye and sees Noel’s lashes dark on his flushed cheeks, his eyes squeezed shut.

Noel’s still and waiting, his lips parted as he pants, so Julian pulls nearly all the way out and then thrusts deep in one long stroke, until his hipbones are pressing into Noel’s arse, the forward motion sliding his cock through the ring of Julian’s fingers.

“Fucking hell, Ju,” Noel moans. “Like that, again. Please.”

Julian complies, but before he does, he leans to whisper in Noel’s ear.

“Noel. Open your eyes and watch.”

A little noise chokes out of Noel’s throat as he drops his head and looks. Julian repeats his movements once, twice, a third time, his own release burning up the back of his spine, and then Noel’s gone in a half-groan, half-whimper, spurting over Julian’s knuckles and catching the lower lip of the bench with cum.

“Ju,” he chants as he finishes, moving back into Julian, trying to speed his thrusts, “Julian, come. Come,” and the only thing Julian can do is give in. He buries his face in the crook of Noel’s neck and lets it wash over him, lets Noel clench around him tight and rock into him.

He breathes deep, and it’s the sweet tang of Noel’s sweat and the trio of products he’s got in his hair mixed with the sunlit scent of dust.

Julian smiles.

“Untie you,” he mumbles against the back of Noel’s neck, dropping kisses on his damp skin, nosing in his hair, along the curve of his ear as he holds Noel’s softening cock in his hand.

Noel hums his agreement and waits, leaning back into Julian, stretching his neck out. He smiles when Julian nips at the stubble on his jaw and tugs playfully at the bandana around his neck with his teeth.

“Go on,” Noel breathes, nuzzling back into him. “Untie me, Ju’un.”

“Can’t,” Julian responds. “Need my hand back, first.”

Noel’s confused for a moment, until Julian nudges his cheek and he looks down at the top of the bench. The garden hose is loose around his wrists, nearly untied, but he’s got two of Julian’s fingers curled in between his joined hands.

He squeezes, and Julian squeezes back, and they stay that way, tucked together against the bench, until their breathing evens out. When Julian slips free, Noel reluctantly lets his hand go and turns to brush a kiss the first place his lips fall, somewhere between Julian’s neck and his jaw. The garden hose falls between their feet and coils into Julian’s jeans. 

“Don’t forget to bring that inside,” Noel breathes against his chest. “We’ll be using it later on. This, too.” He bundles the hose and the lube into Julian’s arms, then shakes Julian’s t-shirt out and slips it on over his head. His jeans make it up over his boots in a flash, then he unties the bandana to tuck back into Julian’s pocket as he gets his zip done up. 

“Might as well bring the spider with us,” Julian responds. He reaches out to play with the hem of his shirt, fingers curling up against Noel’s skin under the fabric. He tugs him the short distance across the floor of the shed and kisses him.

“Might as well,” Noel grins. “You can ask him if he’s seen my pants anywhere. He's got eight eyes; surely he can spot them with one or two.”

“Will do,” Julian grins back.

 _He’s got your pants in his back pocket? The one opposite the bandana?_ Noel’s cock huffs.

This time, Noel’s too busy with Julian’s tongue in his mouth and their hands curled together to give his cock a shush.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked the sneaky hand holding in amongst the other goodies. <3


End file.
